


Changed Circumstances

by Rachel500



Series: Aftershocks in Atlantis [1]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Gen, S1 Aftershocks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-14
Updated: 2011-11-14
Packaged: 2017-10-26 02:13:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/277485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rachel500/pseuds/Rachel500
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>TAG to Rising.  The members of expedition come to terms with new friends and new enemies after their arrival in the Pegasus galaxy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Changed Circumstances

**Author's Note:**

> Please read series notes for fuller details on series pairings. This story focuses on friendship specifically John & Rodney, John & Ford, John & Elizabeth, Teyla & Elizabeth. Mention of John/Teyla UST, Elizabeth/Simon, Teyla & Kanaan friendship.

**Changed Circumstances**

The hangar with the puddle jumpers was cavernous and shadowy in the semi-dark. John Sheppard took a step inside and thought hard at the mental touch of the Ancient technology hovering on the edge of his consciousness asking him if he wanted the lights on; he wanted to keep the lights off. A subtle flicker over the surface of his mind from the technology told him his command would be obeyed. It was weird and he wasn't sure he'd ever get used to it.

John took a moment to stare up at the puddle jumpers. They weren't the most beautiful of flying machines: too oblong, too squat, too beige. They were ugly ducklings but God could they fly like a…and OK, his simile – or did he mean metaphor – was bad because swans didn't fly – did they?

God, he was tired.

Exhausted.

It had been a long day.

The understatement of that thought had John laughing; a thin high laugh that bordered on hysterical. He wiped a hand over his face and got his breathing back under control. He walked over to the puddle jumper they'd used on the rescue mission, skated a hand over her flank and went inside once the ramp lowered. He made a mental plea to stay powered down; he only wanted a place to think. The darkness suited him and eased the headache thumping behind his eyes.

It had been too long a day.

Almost eighteen hours; an hour travelling into the SGC, three hours spent at the SGC, twenty minutes on Atlantis before they discovered the power issue, five hours on Athos which had the shortest daylight hours ever that he had seen outside of Alaska and the Antarctic, another four hours of preparing for a rescue he wasn't sure he'd be able to pull off, an hour and twenty-six minutes on the actual mission (killing his CO had happened somewhere around the forty-eight minute mark), and three hours since their return (one hour since Doctor Weir had surprised him with the impromptu celebration party).

The math of it floated in John's head; equations written out on a whiteboard in his mind, scrubbed out and written over again with one thing glaring in big red printed bold letters.

He'd killed his CO.

John hadn't been given the chance to know Marshall Sumner. He'd spent just over an hour total in the other man's company, most of that on Athos while they drank tea and made nice with Teyla and her people. Most of his impression of Sumner was coloured by the older man's unhidden dislike of John in the small amount of interaction they'd had before they'd gated to Athos. John's record of disobeying orders hadn't endeared him to Sumner who was – had been – a by the book Marine as far as John could tell.

Maybe there had been more flexibility in Sumner than John had witnessed. The Marine had handled the mission to a different planet a hell of a lot more smoothly than John, and Sumner had actually stepped back and let John take the lead with Teyla when it appeared she responded better to his clumsy attempts at charm than Sumner's no-nonsense bluntness. At one point, John could vaguely remember thinking that Sumner looked _amused_ at John's clumsy attempts at charm. And according to Teyla when she'd spoken to John and Weir in the infirmary after the rescue, Sumner had stepped up in the Wraith cell. Sumner had offered himself as a hostage, looked after his men, and had even attempted to protect Teyla and her people.

He couldn't get the look on Sumner's aged face out of his head; the shock and pain and horror of having his life drained out of him. One small look, one brief connection between them, had been enough for John to know Sumner wanted John to take the kill shot but damn it…

Twenty-eight.

He wondered if that was a large or small number of people to have personally killed when in active service. He'd shot most of them; knifed three in an escape from South America because a machete had been the only weapon he'd had; beaten one guy to death with a rock to steal his helicopter in a small African country. Secret missions with secret scars that he couldn't talk about but in the end they all added up to the number twenty-eight.

Sumner made twenty-nine. Of course technically John should add the people in the helicopters and planes he had shot down, the associated fatalities with the ground targets he had wiped out, but he didn't always know the exact number of kills only the confirmed number of hits. His kill number was really a lot higher than twenty-eight – twenty-nine.

Thirty. If he counted the Wraith female. Thirty-two if he counted her two goons. Or had he actually killed them? Maybe they had regenerated like the female's hand had regenerated. According to Carson Beckett there was every chance that he hadn't killed them. Maybe he should start a new count for the Wraith because they weren't human.

So, twenty-nine people.

He hunched down in the seat and closed his eyes.

He'd only just remembered Sumner's tags; he'd had to go back for them just as he and Ford cleared the room. He could feel the weight of them in his pocket. Thank God for Aidan Ford, John thought tiredly. If the young Lieutenant hadn't searched for him…he had a feeling he would have been the Wraith's dessert and it was something he would rather not contemplate. He realised he was rubbing at his chest and stopped abruptly.

He had things to do, John mused tiredly. He'd talked with Ford and Bates, who was the most senior NCO, just enough before the party to understand that the patrols were already organised; the perimeters already in place. Sumner's preparations and contingency plans had been detailed and Ford and Bates had been fully briefed.

Unlike John.

It wasn't his fault. The Pentagon and Joint Chiefs had put him on leave while they'd debated his deployment. His ability to manipulate the Ancient technology had almost meant that he'd been considered too valuable to send to Atlantis – something he couldn't get his head around. But they'd decided to include him in the expedition and his recall had been done swiftly but at the last minute. He'd had no time to meet with Sumner or Weir properly before they'd stepped through the Stargate, just an awkward five minutes in General O'Neill's office where John had realised immediately that Sumner hated him and that he had landed smack bang in the middle of a power struggle between the expedition leader who wanted John along and her military CO who didn't. The wasted weeks grated on him. He barely knew the basics about the expedition; hardly knew anyone else on the team.

He was going to have to catch up and fast. John let the resentment that he was so wholly underprepared roll over him again before he locked it up; he wasn't going to have time to be that indulgent going forward.

Marines weren't typically predisposed to accept an Air Force pilot as a commanding officer. Maybe those who were SGC veterans would be OK – they had ultimately reported to O'Neill and his predecessor. But for those in the same boat as himself – still trying to get their heads around aliens, wormhole travel and being stranded in another galaxy in the lost city of Atlantis – the loss of their Marine CO might be the straw that broke the camel's back. He'd have to keep a careful watch, balance following Sumner's plans with making his own decisions. But hell – he hadn't commanded an entire unit before. There was supposed to be training and promotions and…he shut off the building panic sharply.

It was going to be a nightmare.

God, he wished Sumner wasn't dead. John didn't want the responsibility; he didn't want the command. His brief fantasy once Rodney McKay had shown him the puddle jumpers and before he'd left for the rescue had been that he'd return with Sumner, and maybe get his own small group of people who had the ATA gene to build a team of viable pilots. He'd seen flight duty to other planets in his future; aerial surveys; aerial infiltrations and extractions. The stuff he knew inside out. And in between he'd be helping the science team out. Maybe even indulging his love of math; giving into his inner geek…

John sighed heavily. That fantasy was dead in the water before it had ever had a chance to fly. He was the CO. He was going to have start acting like it.

He stiffened as he recognised sounds outside the jumper; the presence of someone else. Whoever it was they weren't being purposefully stealthy and the tension he'd felt at the noise eased. He turned in the chair to glance out of the open ramp and into the hangar – and hangar sounded so uncool – jumper bay was better.

McKay shuffled into view; his uniform jacket done up tightly as though he was cold, his brown hair sticking up like he was a mad professor, and his entire body language declaring him tired beyond all reckoning.

'Hey, you in the jumper!' McKay snapped out. 'What do you think…'

'It's me, McKay.' John interrupted sharply before he got a lecture; he wasn't in the mood.

'Oh.' McKay climbed up the ramp and into the back compartment. 'People were looking for you.'

John felt a twinge of guilt. He had left the party early. He'd gone because it was expected and he'd needed to make an appearance but he hadn't been in the mood to party at all. It felt crass and disrespectful to those they'd lost even if the Athosians had seemed very on board with the idea and they had been the ones to lose the most; their people, their planet. But John had never been one to enjoy the whole 'let's celebrate we're alive' thing that others did, (the way Mitch and Dex had). He'd barely been able to swallow a mouthful of the champagne Weir had given him – and seriously, she was the one person who he had actually told the whole truth about Sumner's death to because she was effectively his boss, and she offered him champagne? He forced the anger back. Weir had probably thought it was a comforting gesture or something. She was a civilian and she didn't understand the horror and revulsion of having to kill someone in an act of mercy; in truth he didn't want her to understand.

McKay sat down with a muffled thwump into the passenger seat of the jumper, ignoring John's raised eyebrows. McKay really didn't have a clue about social cues. John could relate – genius equalled skipped grades equalled lack of social interaction plus defensive measures against bullying. John had skipped grades, probably not as many as McKay, and if it hadn't been for Patrick Sheppard's insistence on expensive private schools that taught socialising as a skill for a future life in business and politics, John probably would have been in the same boat as McKay. McKay, who evidently believed a man hiding in a darkened puddle jumper was code for come-in-and-make-yourself-at-home and not go-the-hell-away. John opened his mouth to point out the mistake to him.

'We should probably schedule this for maintenance and I should get my laptop at some point and go over the data because I'm thinking there were probably scans of the facility and who knows what we could learn, right?' McKay said before John could say a word. 'I have a feeling these babies take in a lot of data and…'

'Did you just call the puddle jumpers babies?' John asked, caught off-guard and amused despite his want to be alone.

McKay's chin came up challengingly. 'I may have off-handedly referred to them as…' he began before his hands gestured weakly at John, 'oh, like you haven't _thought_ it.'

'Like I would admit it if I had.' John shot back.

'Which is as good as a confirmation.' McKay informed him with an absent-minded wave. 'I should get my laptop.' He said again but he didn't move and blinked tiredly at John.

'You should probably go to bed.' John corrected sympathetically but firmly. Because if McKay went to bed, he could go back to brooding.

'Who can sleep? Do you have any idea how many things we still have to do? I mean, yes, we've got the basics set up but the whole party thing took out a valuable hour of my time and set me back and I really need to make sure…'

'McKay.' John broke in before McKay could babble him to death.

'Hmmm?' McKay stared at him blankly.

John rubbed at his own eyes tiredly; he was going to have to escort the other man to bed. 'Do you have somewhere set-up for sleep?' Which was an excellent question because had anyone assigned him quarters? Did they have quarters yet? He had a vague recollection of Weir saying something in the debriefing from hell but he'd been preoccupied with the knowledge that he'd just killed his CO.

'Carson's saving me a bed in the infirmary.' McKay pointed at John. 'The Marines are bedded down in the big room off the other corridor along that way.'

'Yeah, maybe I'll stay here.' John winced. He hadn't meant to say that out loud. McKay's curiosity was written all over his face and he would bet the next question out of his mouth would ask John why. It was probably best to pre-empt. 'I don't think they need a new CO bedding down with them when they're probably trying to deal with…everything.'

And he wasn't certain that he wouldn't be having nightmares – of life-draining aliens, of the damn cold that had gripped him the instant he'd stepped into the wormhole, of killing his CO – and the Marines definitely didn't need to see or hear him if he did.

'Ah.' McKay's face creased into unease. His fingers tangled with the edge of his uniform jacket. 'I guess not?' He shook his head. 'I hadn't actually properly considered that you would be CO, I mean obviously, but not _obviously_ but really I'm glad, well not _glad_ because that would mean I was pleased about Colonel Sumner dying, which I'm not, I mean I didn't like him and I'm not going to pretend I did just because he's dead, but I am relieved that if we had to have a new CO that it's…'

'McKay.' John chided as he tried not to laugh, partly in horror, partly in genuine amusement.

'You.' McKay finished.

John felt unaccountably touched, far too much for a Major in the USAF who was supposed to be in charge of the military in an alien city in another galaxy. 'Thanks?' He managed when he trusted his voice wouldn't crack.

'Hmmm?' McKay seemed taken aback at the gratitude. 'Well, you know,' he said awkwardly, 'after today, I know if I ever get taken by the life sucking aliens you'll do everything you can to find me.' He joked nervously as though waiting for John to disagree and squirmed when John didn't because it wasn't a joke. 'And, ah, you know, so does everyone else. I mean, think that you'll find them if they get taken by life-sucking aliens not finding me per se.'

That was kind of scary.

'Why I'm here, right?' John tried to dismiss the idea of everybody counting on him to save them when he hadn't been able to save Sumner and there was a whole list of people in his past that he resolutely wasn't thinking about at all.

'Actually, no.' McKay frowned at him, his face pale and unhappy in the dim lighting. 'You said that before to Elizabeth when you showed off the puddle jumper and I didn't get why then either because you're here because you won the genetic lottery not to risk your life running off on rescue missions. Elizabeth wouldn't…she worried the entire time you were gone.'

John assimilated that briefly and wondered at his non-surprise; possibly because Weir had been reluctant to authorise the mission in the first place.

'Who told you that was why you were here?' McKay asked bluntly.

O'Neill. The answer popped into his head before John could even think about it. In hindsight though O'Neill had only said he thought the expedition might need someone like John which could have meant anything although his reminder that John couldn't save everyone maybe hit closer to home. None of which he felt like sharing with McKay.

'Does it matter?' John evaded instead.

'No,' McKay said, 'but…I hate to think you thought you were here just to…I don't know, perform insanely dangerous heroics? Even if they are kind of, uh, reassuring in the face of the aforementioned life-sucking aliens?'

'Can we stop mentioning the life-sucking aliens?' John requested sharply.

'After all,' McKay continued blithely as though John hadn't spoken, 'it's not like we have SG1 here to save the day.'

John had heard of the team in the brief time he'd spent in Antarctica before his transfer and his unexpected leave, and he was thankful that it wasn't something he needed to ask McKay to explain. SG1 was the premier team of the SGC; O'Neill before his promotion, Carter (Lieutenant Colonel and genius) with a brain as big as McKay's, Jackson the history guy and Teal'c the alien warrior guy. OK, so maybe there was a model he could use for the team Weir wanted him to put together. Maybe not an exact duplicate but enough to make it saleable to Weir.

He'd need a scientist. Hadn't O'Neill said something about scientists saving John's ass? And McKay had: he'd come up with the gate address and he'd shown John the puddle jumper – had helped him get it flying. His eyes narrowed on McKay sat across from him.

McKay shifted under his regard. 'What?'

'Doctor Weir's asked me to put together a team.'

'Ah,' McKay nodded quickly, 'that makes sense.'

'I need a scientist.' John said bluntly because if he waited for McKay to get a clue he would probably be sat in the puddle jumper for the rest of his life.

'Right,' McKay agreed with a tight smile, 'so I'll get you a list of people who aren't entirely stupid and…'

And really? McKay thought John was asking him to refer someone? But then maybe that wasn't a surprise either. John could remember painful moments before he'd grown into himself and found the running team in high school when he'd always ended up last on the team pick.

John sighed heavily and interrupted McKay who seemed to be going through his list of not entirely stupid scientists he thought appropriate for John's team. 'I'm asking you, McKay.'

McKay's look of shock made John wish he could take picture.

'But…' McKay waved a hand at himself, 'I mean, of course, you're asking _me_ because obviously you want the smartest person but…but I'm, I may not exactly be, uh, what do you call it: mission fit? I have allergies and…'

'McKay,' John broke in again, 'I want someone I can work with and…we did OK today working together. You thought of the puddle jumpers when we saw the space gate and you helped me get this one flying.' He gestured at him. 'Yeah, we'd need to work on your fitness level and give you some self-defence training,' weapons training too, John's mind supplied helpfully, 'but I couldn't have done the rescue mission without the help you gave me so…'

'Huh.' McKay said, clearly stunned. 'Well, I, um…yes?'

'Great.' John said brightly. It wasn't the most ringing acceptance he'd ever had but he'd take it.

McKay gestured at him. 'We should probably OK it with Elizabeth though. I'm sure she probably planned on my remaining in the city at all times so...'

'Good point.' John agreed. He didn't want to get into the same power tussle she'd had going with Sumner.

McKay beamed at him. 'So, um, who else is on the team?'

'I haven't asked anybody else yet.' John admitted tiredly. Maybe he'd ask Teyla about an Athosian joining the team, or maybe Teyla herself. She could supply the Pegasus know-how in the same way Teal'c had supplied his expertise to SG1 and her spidey-sense about the Wraith could come in useful. It would mean no more flirting though; he knew from experience it was never a good idea to get romantically involved with a team-mate. He felt a moment's regret about that because he liked Teyla with her coffee-coloured complexion, strange long red hair and warm smile.

If McKay had looked stunned before he was rapidly moving into gobsmacked territory. 'Really?'

'Really.' John confirmed. And it felt good to offer something as simple as being the first chosen for a team to McKay. It made the overwhelming horribleness of the day a little brighter somehow.

McKay's mouth opened and closed; once then twice. John had rendered him speechless.

'OK,' John said loudly, swallowing the urge to break into more hysterical laughter which he didn't think McKay would appreciate, 'I think it's time all good scientists went to bed.' He stood up and gestured impatiently for McKay to get with the concept of leaving the puddle jumper.

McKay rose to his feet and slowly walked out ahead of John into the jumper bay. John followed him and patted the jumper fondly as she closed the ramp on his mental nudge.

'You're never going to get bored of doing that, are you?' McKay asked dryly.

'Nope.' John agreed easily. He saw McKay hesitate as he realised the jumper bay was mostly in the dark.

And that, John thought with righteous smugness, was why McKay should have stopped with the mentioning of life-sucking aliens.

'I'm going to check on the patrols,' John aimed for a casual tone, 'you're in the infirmary, right? I'll walk with you.'

McKay nodded, trying to hide his relief that he wouldn't be left alone. He started talking about his list of things to do and John let the endless rush of words roll over him as he escorted his brand new shiny team member down to the infirmary doors. McKay didn't seem to need him to do anything other than hum an agreement occasionally which suited John fine. They parted at the doors and John continued on.

He nodded absently at some of the Athosians camped out the corridors and did what he'd said he was going to: check on the patrols. The Marines assigned reported no issues and on his way back to the jumper bay he ran into a British scientist in a stairwell who informed him that his gear had been placed in a small room off the main control area which had been designated as the military command office.

John found it easily; it was hardly bigger than a closet but it was close to the Stargate. He paused in the doorway. He mentally asked for lights and a dim glow illuminated the room. There was no window and barely any furniture bar a desk and a chair. John identified his own backpack and duffle bag off resting against the left wall. He took in the two laptop bags on the desk and assumed they'd been designated for his use. His and Sumner's he realised belatedly taking in the second duffle and backpack on the right wall.

He slowly made his way over. The duffle was familiar issue; and John's hand clenched on it tightly. He could go through it the next day; he should go through it the next day, John mused wearily. He should get his sleeping bag out and get some rest.

John sat down on the chair and opened Sumner's duffle bag first. He separated out the clothing and personal items, noted what could be added back to stores because light years from Earth they couldn't afford sentimentality; what would be deemed Sumner's property he placed to one side. He found a bottle of aged scotch and placed it in the desk drawer.

He moved onto the backpack. In the second zipped compartment he found a letter addressed to himself with the shape of a USB flash drive buried in the envelope. His fingers skated over the neat print of his name; Major Sheppard. Suddenly he desperately wanted a hit of the scotch. His stomach churned remembering the earlier taste of champagne and he changed his mind. He took a deep breath and opened the letter.

 _Major,_

 _If you're reading this then our mission has gone completely FUBAR from the word go as I intend writing a different version as soon as I can sit down with you to brief you on all this personally._

 _I'm going to guess that we haven't gotten to know each other and that you think I'm a tight ass because I'm intending to make it clear when we meet that I won't put up with you deciding when you should follow a chain of command and when you shouldn't._

 _I will admit that your record is impressive. You're smart, capable and the type that thinks best on your feet. You're the type of officer that is imminently suited for the Stargate programme. You may think you're not ready for a command, and thanks to the Air Force, you're definitely unprepared for the expedition, but I don't think you need me to tell you that you can't let that show to a bunch of Marines potentially stranded in another galaxy and under fire._

 _The enclosed data storage device has everything you need to know to take command. It has the personnel files of your unit; my personal notes on assignments and future assignments, skills development, training needs, etc. It also has the military protocol that I had envisaged implementing; plans on how best we could support the expedition and Doctor Weir._

 _The men and women I've selected will do a good job for you; trust them. For what it's worth, I trust_ you _with them._

 _Good luck,_

 _Marshall Sumner_

John's fingers crumpled the slip of paper before he regained enough control to smooth it out and tuck it back in the envelope. He felt like maybe he'd missed out on never being able to get to know Sumner properly. Buried in the letter was the possibility that they would have gotten over their initial impressions and worked together well. His vision was blurry and he blinked until he could focus again. He picked up the USB drive and reached for one of the laptop bags. Sumner had entrusted John with his Marines; it was time to honour that trust and earn it.

o-O-o

The city felt strange to Teyla as she made her way around the corridors checking on her people. It felt more alien than any other world she had travelled to in her role as Athosian leader and trade liaison.

The shape and feel of the building was sharp and angular; it cast odd shadows and shapes even where artificial lights relieved the dark. The air was preternaturally still; the lack of natural scents – the thick dank of the earth and the fresh green of leaves and grass – was jarring. The flooring was smooth and hard beneath her feet rather than the uneven ground of Athos or the warm weave of her tent rug. There was so much that was unfamiliar.

They had potentially lost Athos. The Wraith had come and they had lost families and friends and retreated to another world. The scale of loss was immeasurable. It hadn't hit Teyla yet. Perhaps when they returned… _if_ they returned…

It was not their way to dwell on grief. Cullings were rare but happened and they could not afford long periods of mourning. They preferred to celebrate life as they had done with Doctor Weir's party earlier. But there were those who grieved and Teyla gave what comfort she could. Marta sat with her brother; they had lost a sister. In another corner, a child was crying for its absent mother. Jayga huddled with her husband, Pau, who had been rescued along with Teyla from the Wraith.

Rescued.

Such a thing was unheard of. Those who were taken never returned. Never. Yet in the cell, the one who had called himself Colonel Sumner had claimed that if there was a way, his people would come. Teyla had not believed him but they had.

She had not liked Sumner. He had been dismissive of everything that he had seen on Athos; dismissive of everyone he had met. As she had said to Major Sheppard, Sumner had looked through her. But he had surprised her in the cell; putting himself forward to be and he had walked away with strength and courage. She would not have wished him dead and certainly she would not have wished for him to die at the hands of the Wraith. Yet she could not deny that she was relieved that she would deal with Major Sheppard.

Major Sheppard had been more upset at the loss of his military commander than she had thought he would be, given the interaction between them she had witnessed during their morning tea had led her to believe the two men did not like each other much. The Major had not shared the details with her but she had overheard his veiled comment to Doctor Weir, she guessed he'd confided in his own people, and if he had witnessed the feeding…

She shuddered.

She could not imagine such a horror.

It had felt natural to offer him the Athosian traditional greeting of friendship as a way of comforting him. But she had a duty to attend to her people and hadn't been able to remain beside him. Teyla had looked for him later but he had disappeared and she had been unable to find him. Perhaps it was for the best. Her time should be spent with her own people, Teyla mused unhappily.

She rounded the corner and found her old childhood friend Kanaan talking with Alen. Kanaan shared her ability to sense the Wraith and it had united them as children. He was a good man, a skilled warrior, but he was content for others to lead. His passivity frustrated Teyla hugely, especially as he took such pride in her achievements as a leader of their people, but he only laughed when she berated him for not stepping forward more. As she watched him speak words of comfort and encouragement to Alen she was reminded again of their old argument.

Kanaan looked over at her as though he had heard her thoughts and smiled. He excused himself from Alen and greeted her, moving into the stance with a grace that had eluded the Major at the party.

'Charin was looking for you.' Kanaan said. 'I will take you to her.' He began leading her away down a corridor and she fell into step beside him. His hand brushed hers gently. 'We have not spoken since your return. How are you?'

'I am…' Teyla sighed; she had always been able to speak the truth with Kanaan; had never had to pretend that she was strong just because she led them. 'I am many things.'

'As always.' Kanaan teased her gently.

Teyla smiled warmly, grateful for the familiarity of their friendship amongst everything else that was strange. 'I miss Athos.'

'It is our home.' Kanaan agreed. 'This is not.'

'Perhaps in time.' Teyla suggested hesitantly. But something told her it was a faint hope. The Athosians were proud and tradition was important to them; a way to continue living despite the Wraith. They were farmers and hunters; a city had no call for either. And there was the issue of _sharing_.

'Some say this is the City of the Ancestors.' Kanaan murmured. 'If it is true then it is as beautiful as I imagined it but…'

Artificial. Cold. Unnatural.

Teyla filled in his unspoken thoughts. 'I believe it is the City of the Ancestors.' She was certain of it in a soul-deep way that Teyla never ignored. 'It responds to Major Sheppard as described in the old tales.' She had seen the lights brighten as he walked past them; the consoles flicker when he touched them. He had made the machine fly.

'I believe it is not the only thing to respond to Major Sheppard.' Kanann said lightly. He nudged her shoulder with his.

'I am merely being friendly to a new ally.' Teyla defended herself briskly.

'Yes,' Kanaan said dryly, 'I saw as much at morning tea.'

Teyla blushed a little because she couldn't deny she liked the Major. He was attractive with his unruly dark hair and changeable eyes. There was a genuine sincerity that lurked in his gaze; a desire to be friends. But there was a gracelessness to him, like a young buck learning to walk, that endeared him to her more. His smile meant to charm her had held a touch of shyness; he had stumbled in his words where a liar would have glided effortlessly.

'They could require an alliance union.' Kanaan said tongue-in-cheek.

Teyla rolled her eyes at him. 'We have not agreed to alliance unions since my Grandfather married Tiann of Liuonl.' She pointed out dryly. 'And besides, I do not think it is their way.' She nudged him back. 'I could offer you if you would like? Their leader is female.'

That had been a shock after the Major and Sumner; arriving in the city and being introduced to Doctor Weir as the expedition leader. She had assumed a patriarchal structure rather than the matriarchal one she had been presented with. It was not often she was surprised.

It was Kanaan's turn to roll his eyes. 'They are different to any other people I have met.' He said quietly. 'Their weapons…the tools they use…they are formidable, Teyla.'

'They are a match for the Wraith.' Teyla said with fierce satisfaction. It was so strange to meet people who were. Teyla suspected that the Wraith culled any society that reached a certain level of knowledge and skill so as to keep their herds from becoming a threat. These people though came from a place that did not know the Wraith and it gave her hope that the Wraith could be fought; that her people could perhaps be free of them one day; it gave her hope.

'Some blame them for the Wraith attacking us. The one that died explored the old city.' Kanaan informed her. 'But more are grateful that they have given us shelter and helped to save those who were taken.'

Teyla let out a sigh. The news was as she had suspected. 'Thank you, Kanaan.'

He stopped in front of an open doorway and motioned at it. 'Charin awaits you.'

They touched foreheads but Kanaan held onto her shoulders when Teyla went to pull back.

'I am pleased you are unharmed and returned to us, Teyla.' Kanaan said softly. 'When I heard you were taken…'

Teyla nodded in understanding. Kanaan had lost his parents in the culling that had taken her father, Torren. 'I thought very much the same.' She admitted, her voice dropping to a whisper.

Kanaan pulled away from her and smiled. 'Major Sheppard will always have my friendship for no other reason than he returned you to us.'

'Perhaps you should be offered to him if they request an alliance union.' Teyla teased.

'Perhaps.' Kanaan joked with a smile. 'He is very pretty.'

Teyla pushed him away with a brief laugh and Kanaan went. She felt anew the rush of delight in having such a friend. She entered the room and closed the doorway as she had been shown with a sweep of her arm.

Charin looked up from a small bed. Her wrinkled face brightened at the sight of Teyla. 'Child.' She opened her arms to Teyla and Teyla went, cuddling in carefully to Charin's embrace, too aware of Charin's elderly fragility to risk hurting her.

Teyla allowed the woman who had helped raise her comfort her for a long moment before she shifted to sit on the bed. 'Do you have everything you need?'

'Now that I have seen you for myself.' Charin said.

Teyla flushed. She should have sought Charin earlier after her return, but there had been so much to do and assimilate…

Charin brushed Teyla's hair back over her shoulder and tugged on a strand. 'You should remove your hair-piece; your scalp with thank you.'

The hair-piece was a tradition that Teyla had kept; the fierce red colour denoted her as a leader. The reasons why it was used had been lost but Teyla honoured the tradition nevertheless.

Teyla sighed. 'I believe I cannot. I may be called upon in the night.'

'You need rest, child.' Charin chided gently. She brushed a finger over Teyla's cheek. 'Our people need you rested. There will be much to do in the coming weeks.'

'What do you think of these people of Lantea, Charin?' Teyla asked.

Charin pursed her lips and her rheumy eyes grew thoughtful. 'I believe they mean well. Whether they were at fault for bringing the Wraith among us as some believe or not, I think they have good hearts.'

Teyla was relieved to find her own view was shared by Charin. 'I believe so too.'

'You also believe they may be able to fight the Wraith and win.' Charin tapped her arm. 'I know you, child. You have a warrior's heart.'

'They fought today and won.' Teyla pointed out. 'Is it so bad to hope that they may help us change things?'

'Things are already changed with their arrival.' Charin said softly. 'Some would say not for the better.'

Teyla nodded, chastened. Was the arrival of these people worth the loss of Athos? If they enabled her people to one day live without the threat of the Wraith…it would be worth it, Teyla mused. There were other worlds; the value of her people was counted in their lives, their hopes and dreams, the memories and shared culture they embodied. Athos itself was only soil and land. They moved their camps around enough for Teyla to consider her home a fluid concept; one more shaped by the people around her than the ground she stood upon.

'What about you?' asked Teyla, wanting to know Charin's thoughts.

'I am old enough to know that change is only as good or bad as we want it to be.' Charin said. Her eyes suddenly fixed on Teyla's neck and she brushed a hand over the pendant Teyla wore. 'I have not seen you wear this for many years.'

'I lost it many years ago.' Teyla admitted a little sheepishly. 'Major Sheppard found it on the floor of the caves when I showed him the drawings.'

Charin's face took on a teasing note. 'Major Sheppard is a fine young man. If I was younger I might have fought him for you.'

Teyla blushed furiously.

'He saved our people.' Charin said before Teyla could refute her own interest in the Major. 'He offered us a place here.' She stroked Teyla's hair. 'Some of the children hero-worship him already,' and there was a cautionary note that told Teyla Charin was concerned that Teyla hero-worshipped him too, 'but I think he is just a man albeit a good man.'

He was; Teyla wanted to reply. She knew he felt responsible for the events that had transpired with the Wraith. To know that he truly questioned whether his actions had been for good or ill was another reason to like him; he was honourable. But, her inner voice whispered cautiously again, Teyla needed to put her people first. However much Teyla liked the Major, she could not allow her feelings to sway her decisions.

She allowed Charin to coax her into resting. There would be much to do the next day and Teyla would need to be strong. She would need to find a way to balance the different views of her people. She would need to make some tough decisions for her people's future including whether to trust those that sheltered them.

o-O-o

Aidan Ford rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and yawned widely. He had bedded down in a room that adjoined the large space the rest of the unit had sacked out in. Sumner had drilled it into Ford that there was cohesion and there was a line which didn't get crossed because they were officers.

Ford felt a pang of loss as he made his way to the bathroom and got showered and dressed quickly. He had liked Sumner for all the guy was tougher than the other COs Ford had served under at the SGC. Young had been tough but very transparently nurturing the team he led. Dixon had been brusque but his dry sense of humour had offset the bluntness of his orders; he had simply expected Ford to get things done and Sumner had been the same in that regard. Sumner had also stated out loud that he expected Ford to pull his weight as an officer and didn't have time to mollycoddle him.

The sight of the Colonel's drained corpse flitted across Ford's mind and he grimaced. It wasn't his first dead body but it was the first dead body of somebody he'd served with. He felt a tug of guilt. He should have insisted on going with the Major when he'd gone in search of the Colonel; maybe he would have been able to help find the Colonel before he'd been drained of his life. At least he'd saved Major Sheppard.

He was so relieved he had. If he hadn't followed after the Major…would they have been down two officers? Ford didn't like to think about that. If he'd ended up in charge of the unit? He shook his head. Whatever issues Sumner had with the guy, Sheppard was a Major. It was a couple of ranks down from Colonel but it was better than a Lieutenant who had almost no command experience outside of the training exercises.

And Ford _liked_ Sheppard, more if he was honest than he had liked Sumner. But then Sumner had made it clear he didn't really care if he was liked or not; he only expected for his position to be respected. The unit had effectively been given the same message in the briefing Sumner had held the day before they'd left; the day before yesterday.

Ford wondered what kind of leader Sheppard would turn out to be; how the unit would respond to a zoomie in charge. The SGC veterans would probably be more relaxed about it. Ford knew Sheppard had fought hard to rescue the men that had been taken and that had earned him brownie points, both in going to bat for the rescue and mostly pulling it off even if he hadn't been able to bring the Colonel back. Marines believed in the concept of 'leave no man behind' more than any other branch of the military; Ford believed that to his bone marrow. He grinned; he was a Marine after all.

Still, Ford knew the Major had made some mistakes. The decision to go off alone after the Colonel hadn't been tactically or strategically sound. They would all have been screwed if the Major hadn't made it back because the Major was the only one who could have flown them out. Ford had agreed with Bates that he needed to head out after the Major once the charges had been set. But then Ford had made mistakes too; firing at shadows on the way out. The Major had saved Ford's ass there at the end so maybe they were squared away on that one.

Ford glanced at his watch and winced. Oh-five-thirty. Early but he'd had worse. He headed to the small office Sheppard had informed him about when he'd called him on the radio late the previous night. Sheppard had ordered an early briefing and an all unit meeting for oh-six-hundred.

The office door was open and Ford knocked briskly on the wall outside, waiting for Sheppard's brisk call to 'come on in.'

It was small; too small. Ford figured they were going to have to find somewhere else because there was barely room to swing a cat between the chair, desk and the limited floor space. He frowned at the rolled up sleeping bag on the left wall. It looked like Sheppard had slept in the room. His eyes caught on neatly lined up stacks of belongings that edged the far wall.

Sheppard stood, bending over the desk as he tapped away on the open laptop in front of him. The Major looked surprisingly awake for such an early hour; he'd showered and shaved; the damp hair and smooth jawline gave that away. He'd obviously scrounged up a bottle of water from somewhere and Ford felt the instinctive need for his first cup of coffee along with a gnawing niggle in his belly that said he wanted breakfast.

The Major glanced up as Ford settled into an 'at ease' position in front of him. 'Did you pass the message about the meeting onto Bates?'

'Yes, sir.' Ford confirmed. He had dimly registered the sounds of Bates rousing the unit as he had left for the bathroom.

Sheppard nodded briskly and straightened. 'Before he arrives, I just want to thank you for yesterday.' One side of his lips quirked upwards. 'You handled yourself well and saved my ass so…thank you.'

Ford felt his cheeks heat and he wished again that he was prone to blushing easily. 'I think the ass saving was mutual, sir.'

Sheppard dismissed the comment with a wave. 'You're the only Marine officer on this mission, Lieutenant. I'm going to be counting on you _a lot_ because let's face it, I'm not a Marine.'

'I won't let you down, sir.' Ford said immediately.

'I know you won't.' Sheppard said mildly. 'So, a couple of things: one, you don't have to sir and Major me all the time when it's just us. You have permission to call me John if you want.' He must have registered Ford's inner shock. 'It's fine if you don't. Whatever you're comfortable with.' He added hurriedly.

Ford smiled widely. 'Thank you. I'll stick to sir. I don't want to forget in front of the others.'

'OK.' Sheppard returned his smile. 'The second item I wanted to discuss is about gate teams.' He licked his lips. 'Doctor Weir asked me to put together a team. I believe Colonel Sumner anticipated you leading a team?'

'We had discussed it, sir.' Ford said evenly. He had been looking forward to it. 'I've had a year of off world experience.'

'The thing is…' Sheppard rubbed the back of his head, a sheepish expression flitting across his features. 'I don't have any off world experience. I mean apart from,' he gestured vaguely, 'yesterday.'

'Right.' Ford realised. He altered his position slightly, chest drawing back more, stance widening, his fingers tightening in the clasp behind his back. 'What's your suggestion, sir?'

'Actually that was what I was going to ask you. Several of the Marines have experience but I don't know them or how they would respond to being in the field with me.' Sheppard said. 'So recommendations?'

Ford skipped over a couple of names in his head and frowned. It wasn't that he didn't think that the men he'd thought of would have a particular issue with Sheppard but he did think they would find it difficult challenging Sheppard if they felt he'd made the wrong decision. That had the potential to be disastrous especially given Sheppard's own stated lack of experience. He'd suggest Bates but there was a tension between them that suggested a personality clash there that would be even more of an issue.

He repressed the urge to sigh. 'I recommend myself initially, sir.'

Sheppard's eyes widened. 'Why?'

Ford took him through his reasoning, skirting the issue with Bates in vague terms, and Sheppard nodded slowly.

'I can't say I'm thrilled that we'd have the only two remaining officers on the same team, Lieutenant.'

'Bates is an experienced NCO, sir,' Ford pointed out, 'he could probably run the unit if something happened to us both.'

Ford truly believed that because Sumner had told him he'd chosen Bates for that reason.

'OK.' Sheppard said, smiling. 'So, that's you, me, Teyla and McKay.'

'Uh, did you just say Doctor McKay, sir?' Ford asked, taken aback. Sumner had very much wanted the gate teams to remain military with civilians only along once a planet had been secured or deemed safe.

'We need a scientist, Lieutenant, and as McKay likes to tell everyone; he's the best there is.' Sheppard remarked with a smirk.

'You know maybe I should have my own team,' Ford began to joke.

'Too late, Ford.' Sheppard said. 'And don't say anything to Teyla just yet. I still have to ask her.'

'Understood, sir.'

A rap on the wall had them both turning to greet Bates.

'Major. Lieutenant.' Bates' eyes flickered over the room and stilled at the sight of Sumner's belongings out in the open.

'Come in, Sergeant.' Sheppard said swiftly. He placed his hands low on his hips and regarded Bates warily. 'Is everyone gathered?'

'Yes, sir.' Bates said tersely.

Sheppard paused for a moment before he spoke again. 'I understand from the letter and instructions Colonel Sumner left me…'

Ford tried hard to contain his shock at that news: Sumner had left a letter for the Major? He could see Bates was equally as surprised.

'…that you served with him previously, Bates?'

Bates nodded briskly. 'Yes, sir. He was a good CO; a good Marine.'

'I made a first pass through his stuff for what we could reuse or not. I'd like you to do a final sort through and take custodianship of anything personal.' Sheppard said briskly.

'Yes, sir.'

Sheppard pressed his lips together. 'You have questions?'

'In light of the Wraith, are you militarising the expedition, sir?' Bates asked bluntly.

The tension ratcheted up a notch in the small room.

'No.' Sheppard said.

'Colonel Sumner would have taken a different view.' Bates pointed out brusquely.

Sheppard stiffened at the implied criticism. 'If the Wraith were knocking on the gate, I would agree, but they're not and Doctor Weir has had months of preparation for this expedition which I don't. At this point in time, I think it's best we support her efforts.'

Bates glowered even more if that was possible and Ford barely stopped himself from saying something about his openly hostile attitude. He could understand Bates was upset by Sumner's death but it was no excuse.

'And the Athosians?'

'Friendlies.' Sheppard stated firmly.

'They were probably the ones that gave us up to the Wraith.' Bates said harshly.

'We don't know anything for certain, Sergeant.' Sheppard said. 'It's just as likely that our presence on their planet triggered some kind of alarm.'

Ford began to wonder if either man still realised he was in the room with them; they were each staring the other down. He cleared his throat. 'You should probably cover both topics in your briefing with the unit, sir.'

Bates looked at him. Ford figured he hadn't won any points with the Sergeant for interrupting the staring match.

Sheppard nodded. 'One final thing: I need you both to prepare a briefing on the Wraith for the unit.' He pointed at the laptop. 'McKay has a shared server up and running for military use. My notes on them are on there along with Beckett's observations on their physiology. Bates, I want any and all information that you found out when you were captured. Ford, talk to Teyla and get any other data you can about them. Add your own and get it issued by the end of today.'

'Yes, sir.' Both Ford and Bates replied in unison.

Sheppard grabbed his jacket and shrugged into it. He headed out, leaving Ford and Bates to follow quickly to keep up with him. To give Sheppard credit he didn't slow down; he strode into the large room the Marines had used as temporary barracks and up to the front with the same sense of purpose that Ford had seen when Sumner had done the exact same thing, just in a room a galaxy away.

The room quietened instantly as Bates called them to attention.

'At ease.' Sheppard said loudly, his low voice carrying easily. He assumed the position himself and let his gaze travel around them for a moment. 'Yesterday we lost Colonel Sumner. I didn't know him well but I know he died in the performance of his duty; protecting this expedition and Earth.'

The total quiet was unnerving. Ford understood Sheppard's pause was a moment of remembrance before he continued.

'I'm not the CO you were expecting but I'm the one you've got.' Sheppard said bluntly. 'If you think this means you can relax, drop your standards, let your discipline go; think again.'

Ford could see the shift in some of the men; there had been whispers no doubt that an Air Force officer would be easier on them.

The Major's hazel eyes hardened unexpectedly. 'We have an enemy who wants to _eat_ us.'

Another silence while they absorbed that.

'You'll have a briefing document by the end of the day. Read it. Memorise it. Anyone has an idea about how to kill the bastards more efficiently, give your idea to Lieutenant Ford.'

Sheppard shifted his weight. 'That said; it's not my intention to militarise the expedition at this point. We'll continue to support and protect the civilian population as is our primary mission objective. The Athosians are to be considered friendlies and part of that civilian population until further notice.'

Ford didn't need to turn his head to know Bates was frowning.

Sheppard moved on briskly. 'However, speaking of the Athosians and civilians, I don't think I need to have the birds, bees and no means no talk with you all, but let me make myself clear: if anyone here thinks no means something other than no, I have no problems spacing you.'

There was another silent ripple because Sheppard sounded and looked as though he meant every word; that he was perfectly capable of carrying out his threat. He looked nothing like the easy going Air Force pilot that had walked through the gate with them the previous day.

'Ford and Sergeant Bates will continue to issue your assignments. Complaints, problems, issues should go through them. Anyone with an ATA gene will also receive pilot training once we've checked out which puddle jumpers are flight worthy.' Sheppard said the orders firmly. 'As of tomorrow, excepting emergency situations and those performing their assigned duties, the unit will meet daily for PT at oh-six-hundred hours.'

There were muted groans but the sound was more good-natured and intended to relieve the tension than genuine complaint.

Sheppard smiled a little. He rocked back on his heels. 'Colonel Sumner selected every one of you because he believed and trusted in you.' He let his gaze travel around the room. 'Prove him right. Dismissed.'

Ford fell into step beside his CO as Sheppard walked out. He felt unaccountably proud and inspired; he wanted to prove himself to Sheppard and he had seen the same reflected on many other faces. Although…he looked at Sheppard balefully.

'What?' asked Sheppard impatiently, taking a near-by set of steps two at a time.

'Oh-six-hundred PT?' Ford complained but he was smiling. 'Seriously, sir? Are you sure you're not a Marine?'

o-O-o

Elizabeth stretched upwards, lowered her arms and rolled her neck as she tried to get the kinks out. She had slept in the office she had chosen just off the control centre. She'd been too exhausted to mind the hard floor when she had curled into her sleeping bag but she had felt every minute since she had woken up. Sleeping quarters and actual beds needed to be a priority, Elizabeth determined with amusement. They had prioritised what few beds and quarters they'd managed to clear to the Athosians the day before out of necessity. She changed in the bathroom down the hall before going in search of breakfast.

It amazed her that the kitchen staff was already up; they'd made muffins, set out bowls of fresh fruit and preserves along with carafes of hot water and jugs of juice on the same terrace where they'd had the celebration the night before. Food. Something else she was going to have to think about. Their stocks were good but they hadn't anticipated taking in refugees. She couldn't argue against the immediate need that had led to the decision to bring the Athosians to Atlantis but she would have to talk to the Major about protocol on making those kinds of decisions in future.

She breathed in a lungful of fresh air, looked around again in amazement before she grabbed a muffin, a banana and a mug of coffee. There would be plenty of time to enjoy the view once she'd made some progress on getting things set-up. She made her way back to her office. They'd found a desk and a couple of chairs for it but otherwise it was empty. That would need to change but it could wait.

So many things to do, Elizabeth considered as she sat down; half torn between pleasure and panic. They'd made a good start the day before; Stargate Operations as McKay had dubbed it was up and running. They'd found so many rooms and labs. The problem was going to be keeping everybody focused on what was important.

She took a sip of coffee and opened her laptop to review her plans and update them before everyone else started to wake up and the day started to get too busy. She was immersed when she heard a throat being cleared in the doorway. She looked up and smiled at the hovering form of her new military commander.

She regretted Marshall Sumner's death especially the circumstances of it but she couldn't deny that there was a relief deep down that she wouldn't have to fight him over every decision any longer. She knew that Sumner deserved more than a fleeting thought; perhaps a memorial once everything was sorted out. In the meantime…she waved John in.

The door closed behind him and she offered him the free chair. He sat down with a hesitant expression.

'I thought we should talk before the day gets crazy.' John drawled.

Elizabeth nodded crisply. She leaned forward and picked up her coffee mug. 'I agree.' It would probably be good to make it a daily occurrence.

'So I met with the Marines already…'

She started, shocked a little that he'd met with them before discussing it with her, and his hazel eyes narrowed. She flushed as he regarded her speculatively for a moment.

'…no-one seems to have an issue with my assuming command.' John continued smoothly as though the interruption hadn't happened.

Of course he'd had to meet with the Marines, Elizabeth berated herself briskly. And the result was good. It eased a worry that Elizabeth hadn't realised she'd had.

'We may still get grumbling,' John allowed, 'but I don't think they'll mutiny despite the early morning PT I've ordered.' His smile was sharp. 'They've already been issued assignments by Ford and Bates based on Sumner's plans.' He reported. 'So, the immediate priority is for us to continue the sweep and secure activities begun yesterday so we can assign liveable space; quarters, mess, etcetera.'

His priority was her priority; it was what she had agreed with Sumner even before they'd set foot in the city mainly because he had been insistent but…

She frowned. Sumner had believed a full sweep and secure procedure was required but perhaps she could convince John it wasn't. 'I'm not sure the sweep and secure is fully necessary, Major. It's obvious that the city is long abandoned and the internal sensors haven't found anything. Maybe we can let that go in the interests of assigning quarters quickly especially with our unexpected guests here?'

Sheppard's lips lifted slightly and he shook his head. 'Safety first, right?'

Elizabeth considered his expression. It was outwardly friendly but there was a hard quality to his gaze that dared her to push it as though he suspected she was trying to get him to agree to something because she thought he would be easier to persuade than Sumner.

She smiled instead and tilted her head towards her sleeping bag. 'I admit that after sleeping here last night, I might have changed my mind.' It was an acknowledgement that she knew he knew that she'd tried and failed, and wouldn't try again.

John's expression melted into sympathy and a mock wince. 'Tell me about it. I think I may have put my back out.'

'So,' Elizabeth took a sip of coffee, 'we'll continue the sweep and secure.'

John lifted one shoulder as though to signal he didn't care but she knew better. His fingers tapped on his thigh before he stilled them. 'Sumner left me a letter and detailed instructions.'

'OK,' Elizabeth said slowly, curious and surprised in equal measure. She wondered what Sumner had written to John, whether it was criticism or encouragement. She also felt a flicker of dismay. The negotiator inside of her had appreciated that she would have a distinct advantage over John if Sumner hadn't left anything for him.

'He laid out the specific criteria where he believed it would be necessary for the expedition to be militarised.' John continued. 'He went over them with you.'

Elizabeth nodded uneasily and set aside her coffee cup. It looked as though Sumner had done a thorough job of planning for his demise. She didn't know whether to admire the forethought or to be horrified. 'The Colonel may not have made it clear in his notes that he and I did not agree over who would make the final determination that the criteria had been met.'

'I worked that out for myself.' John said easily. He leaned back, resting an arm along the back of the chair. 'I don't think you and I are going to necessarily agree either.'

She tensed. The report of his meeting with the Marines…the insistence on following the agreed priority…if this was John making a play…

'I'm not planning to militarise the expedition.' John stated clearly. 'Right now I have a unit of Marines that I need to get to know, a bay full of puddle jumpers to get flight ready, a team to put together, and a city to sweep and secure.' He smiled self-deprecatingly. 'I don't have time to do your job too.'

Elizabeth almost smiled and folded her arms across her chest. 'Well, that's a relief.'

John smirked at her dry tone. 'Well, I figure we have enough to deal with without fighting each other. We need to work together.'

She nodded. 'I think we can both agree on that.'

And it was the reason why she was more comfortable with John as the military CO than Sumner. John was much more willing to compromise. She wasn't under any illusion: if John had returned from his rescue mission with Sumner, the expedition would have been immediately militarised because of the presence of the Wraith.

'We should probably go back over the criteria once we've got things on an even keel around here.' John added. 'I might not agree militarisation is required right now but Colonel Sumner was an experienced off world commander and I don't disagree with all the scenarios he detailed.'

'I don't have a problem with that,' Elizabeth said immediately. Reviewing the criteria gave her another opportunity to argue for the expedition only to go in that direction under the direst of situations. 'I had generally envisaged the expedition working along the same lines as we did yesterday on the rescue; you would lead the actual missions but I make the final decisions on what those are and when we do them with input from you and others, of course.'

'I can live with that.' John said, a flicker of relief washing over his features. 'Speaking of which,' he gave a sheepish smile, 'we should talk about my team.'

'Sure,' Elizabeth said, pleased that John had agreed so easily with her, 'like I said yesterday, I have some thoughts. Colonel Sumner was against using civilian personnel but I really think you'll need a scientist. Peter Grodin is ex-Royal Navy…'

John held up his hand. 'I've, uh, actually already asked McKay.'

Elizabeth's mouth fell open and her brain stopped working, her train of thought completely derailed. 'Rodney?' She asked in disbelief. 'You've asked Rodney?'

John nodded. 'We agreed it was subject to your approval but we worked together well yesterday and as he says all the time; he's the best.'

'Yes, but…' Elizabeth sat back in her chair and regarded John thoughtfully. 'Look, Major, I've worked with Rodney for a while now and I don't think you've maybe seen him at his worst. He's…'

'Difficult? Lacking in social graces? Has a lot to say usually very loudly and regardless of whether anyone wants to hear it?' John shrugged as though it didn't matter. 'Yeah, I got all that from the first _hour_ we spent together in Antarctica. I also saw yesterday that he was quick thinking, worked hard and came through with a plan when I thought I was stuck.'

Elizabeth took note that his shoulders had gone back; his chin had gone up a touch. He was prepared to fight for Rodney to be part of his team. It was fascinating on one level but… 'Rodney's not exactly a team player.'

John made a disbelieving noise. 'He did fine yesterday and he can't be that bad or you wouldn't have him on the expedition at all.' He held up a hand. 'Think of it this way: what better way for him to develop his team skills than being on a team?'

'OK, I take your point.' Elizabeth said evenly. 'But I think you should read his file because…'

'I'll read the file if you insist,' John cut in, his eyes glittering, 'but I'm telling you now it won't change my mind. I'm the last person on this expedition who is going to judge someone on their written record.'

Elizabeth felt a rush of chagrin; she should have known that would be the wrong tack to take with John. She nodded slowly. 'I'm not sure how I feel about having my military commander and chief scientist on the same team. If something were to happen to you both…that would have a definite impact on the expedition.'

'You said it yourself; I need a scientist on the team.' John said firmly. 'We'll both work on ensuring our deputies can step up. Bates is more than capable of…'

'Bates?' Elizabeth interrupted him, shifting forward again concerned. 'What about Lieutenant Ford?'

'Ford's on my team too. He has gate experience I don't have; he's also the only Marine likely to challenge me on a decision other than Bates and…Bates is a more experienced commander if someone has to replace me.' John explained quickly.

Elizabeth frowned. She wasn't sure Aidan Ford _was_ up to challenging John in the field. She had observed what she thought was a bad case of hero-worship in the young Lieutenant.

'And,' said John earnestly, 'it's short term: maybe eight months to a year worst case scenario. Just until I know the other Marines better, they know me better, I get used to gate travel…' he made a twirly gesture with one hand, 'Ford'll get his own team then.'

'That leaves you with one available space still,' Elizabeth commented, deciding that while she didn't like Ford being on the team she appreciated the reasons why he was, 'Peter would be…'

'I've invited Teyla to be my fourth.' John said.

Her eyes widened. 'Teyla?'

'The Athosians have the local know-how both on what planets will be friendly to us and on the Wraith.' John paused. 'It worked for SG1 having Teal'c as a member. I thought it would be good to follow a similar model.'

She sighed. 'John…'

John winced and shifted position on the uncomfortable chair. 'This is another one of those instances where you wanted me to talk to you before I did something.'

'Yes.' Elizabeth said. 'It's just…'

'You don't trust them.' John nodded. 'I can appreciate that. You should talk with Teyla and get to know her. I think the two of you will get on great.'

He was right. She didn't trust the Athosians. She wanted to and if Sumner was around she probably would have been with John in encouraging trust rather than remaining wary but there was just her, and her experience of negotiating complex treaties in hot spots around Earth had shown her it was naïve to trust anyone without reservation.

'I will make speaking with Teyla a priority.' Elizabeth said. And she would because it had been the first task she'd added to her plan. 'On the matter of her joining your team,' she arched an eyebrow, 'I did get the impression that you and she…'

'Hmmm?' John looked at her blankly.

Elizabeth waggled her eyebrows expressively.

'Oh.' John blushed.

She was amused as even his ears turned red.

'It's not…we're not…' John stuttered and his hands flailed widely. 'I mean, sure she's…and if we weren't going to be team-mates and even then…she's and I'm…no.'

'Eloquent.' Elizabeth commented unable to keep her laughter out of her voice.

'Go ahead,' John encouraged her, regaining some of his composure, 'laugh it up. Just wait until it's your turn.'

She didn't try to argue that it wouldn't happen for her; she loved her fiancé, Simon. Her message to him had absolved him of the need to wait for her but she thought he would; couldn't imagine that he wouldn't. 'So, what I think you were trying to tell me is that a romantic relationship between you and Teyla isn't on the table and that there's no conflict of interest in her being on your team.'

'That.' John pointed at her.

'OK.' Elizabeth raised a hand. 'I accept your team choices, subject to a discussion with Teyla.'

'Thank you.'

'While we're on the subject of fraternisation…'

'Were we on the subject?' John asked lightly.

Elizabeth smiled but didn't allow him to derail her. 'I don't suppose Colonel Sumner's final instructions mentioned Doctor Heightmeyer's paper on isolated communities?'

'No, they did not.' John said. He grimaced and sighed, folding his arms over his chest. 'I'm not going to like this, am I?'

'Doctor Heightmeyer is a recognised psychologist and we're lucky she's on the expedition.' Elizabeth said. 'She believes that in isolated communities it's more likely for people to develop short term romantic or sexual liaisons as a mechanism for coping and to find comfort. She predicts that many of our expedition are likely to develop crushes; have short term affairs; that kind of thing.'

'I don't have a problem with that in theory and I'm willing to turn a blind eye on the military side.' John said after a thoughtful pause. 'But if it starts to affect someone's working relationships or performance that's a different matter.'

'Good.' Elizabeth said. 'I'm glad we both see it the same way.'

He held her gaze. 'I did give everyone under my command the no means no or I space you speech this morning. You may want to do the same for the civilian side of the expedition.'

'I'll do that.' Elizabeth said. She hesitated and ploughed on regardless. 'You may want to speak with Kate, Doctor Heightmeyer yourself.'

'I think I'm all caught up on her theory.' John said dismissively.

She straightened up and kept her eyes steady on his. 'I meant you should talk with her about what happened yesterday.'

His admission that he had shot Sumner in a mercy killing had shocked her. She wasn't certain that she understood what had driven him to do it; the horror he had described of Sumner's life being drained from him by the Wraith seemed unreal to her. But the pain and sorrow of what he had done had shown on John's face when he had told her; in the quiet pain in his cracked voice. She'd quickly agreed they needed to make the exact nature of Sumner's death need-to-know only.

John looked for a second as though she had slapped him before his face took on an impassivity that she was sure Teal'c hadn't even achieved during the time she'd been at the SGC. 'I'm fine.'

'John, if we were back on Earth, you would have to talk with a psychiatrist as standard protocol.' Elizabeth pointed out. 'I'd like you to see her.'

'No.' John said firmly. 'We agreed that this was need-to-know and she doesn't need-to-know.'

'John...'

'No.' His posture, so relaxed and insouciant through their previous discussion despite some of the content, was suddenly ramrod straight, poised for flight.

'I could make it an order.' Elizabeth sat back, retreating to make John feel less threatened.

'But you're not going to.' John said, guessing her decision.

Elizabeth shook her head. 'But, John, if I think you need to…'

'I just need to get to work.' John gave her an expectant look.

She sighed and nodded. He gave her a half-sketched salute and made his way out, slow enough that it wouldn't alert anyone else to something being wrong but fast enough that she knew the final part of their conversation had affected him.

For the next hour, she busied herself with a hundred and one different tasks before finally giving up and going in search of Teyla. It quickly became clear to her that she needed a second. Maybe Peter Grodin would be a good choice for her, Elizabeth thought with wry amusement, since John hadn't been interested.

She barely got through Operations before Teyla found her.

'Doctor Weir, may I speak with you?'

'I was just on my way to find you.' Elizabeth motioned towards the balcony. They both walked through the opening doors and into the bright morning sunshine.

Teyla breathed in deeply and turned her face up to the sun.

Elizabeth looked at the city spread out before her and around her. It was incredible. It was everything she had dreamed about; everything she had hoped for.

'The City of our Ancestors is truly beautiful.' Teyla murmured reverently, her hands lightly touching on the railing.

'It is.' Elizabeth said. She took another moment and gathered her thoughts as she clasped her own hands behind her back. 'I wish to offer you my sincere condolences for the losses you suffered yesterday. I didn't really get the opportunity to do that fully. Is there a ritual or…'

'What needs to be done will be done. It is not the first time we have lost loved ones to the Wraith.' Teyla said simply. She shifted back and stood mirroring Elizabeth's stance.

Elizabeth took a moment to admire the tactic.

'The Athosian Council is agreed: we would like to stay with your people, Doctor Weir, and would request sanctuary.' Teyla said formally.

'You've discussed the matter?' Elizabeth was curious about their social structure and customs but she pushed it aside to focus on making a decision. Elizabeth had to assess whether the benefits of having people who knew the Pegasus galaxy, who could introduce them to others for trade in foods and necessities, might outweigh the burden on their resources and the risk of having unknown strangers in the city with them. It wouldn't be impossible to refuse the Athosians sanctuary and yet at the same retain their friendship but it would be difficult and Elizabeth wasn't sure she wanted to risk alienating people who had offered a hand of friendship.

'We have,' Teyla said.

'And there are none that would wish to return to your homeworld?' Elizabeth asked bluntly.

Teyla inclined her head. 'There are some who wish to return but they respect the decision of the Council. If we return to our home, it is possible that the Wraith will return and cull again. They may come for information about you; they may come simply to feed.' Her face tightened with anger for a long moment. 'If we stay,' she said, 'we have the protection of the city and our new friends.' She caught Elizabeth's eyes. 'People do not return once taken by the Wraith. What happened yesterday…it was a…miracle to my people.'

Elizabeth murmured her understanding.

'In return, you are new here but we can help you. We offer you our knowledge and alliance in finding trading partners. And we would add our strength to yours in defeating the Wraith.'

'We're not here to wage war on the Wraith, Teyla.' Elizabeth countered mildly. 'Our mission is primarily a peaceful one to learn more about our shared ancestors, those we call the Ancients.'

'I am glad to hear it.' Teyla smiled briefly. 'However, I believe the Wraith will wage war on you.' She lifted an eyebrow. 'And I believe you know this.'

Elizabeth hummed her concession. 'Is there no way to negotiate with them?'

'Do you negotiate with the food you eat?' Teyla rejoined easily. 'A bargain with a Wraith is no bargain at all.'

Teyla truly believed that, Elizabeth surmised. She wasn't so certain it was that cut and dried. The Goa'uld had held themselves up as Gods and refused to negotiate in the early days of the Stargate programme too but they had eventually come to the table.

'As much as I want to agree that you can stay,' Elizabeth said, 'we have limited resources…'

'We appreciate this and we are a proud people. You will find we have much we can contribute.' Teyla said. 'If we could return briefly to Athos, we could retrieve our food stores and what is left of our belongings.'

'If you could do that safely without alerting the Wraith I would agree.' Elizabeth said. Everything about Teyla suggested she was genuine in what she had said. Elizabeth gave in to her instincts. 'Why don't you discuss the matter with Major Sheppard and come back to me with a plan?'

Teyla assimilated Elizabeth's words, understanding that it was a tacit permission to stay, and smiled broadly at her. 'Thank you.' She stepped forward, placing her hands on Elizabeth's shoulders and Elizabeth recognised the move from the evening before when Teyla had performed it on John. She moved into it, lowering her own forehead and holding Teyla's shoulders lightly.

They stepped back.

'I look forward to getting to know you and your people better, Teyla.' Elizabeth said sincerely.

'As do I, Doctor Weir.' Teyla smiled at her again and left the balcony.

Elizabeth turned to the view and placed a fist on the railing as she re-examined the conversation in her head. Teyla was sincere. She could see why John was so quick to trust her. But Elizabeth recognised a good negotiator when she saw one which meant Teyla knew the art of getting people to trust her. Elizabeth hoped she had made the right decision. She smiled sadly to herself.

In the excitement of planning the expedition, she had never considered how hard it would be to have the pressure of making decisions once they were in Atlantis. She had thought she was prepared but she hadn't truly considered the immense stress of being so far from home without a way to contact the SGC and get help. The survival of the entire expedition rested on her shoulders and she was only beginning to realise the weight of that.

If Marshall Sumner had lived…

He would have assumed the responsibility for their lives, Elizabeth mused. And she would probably have hated it and been grateful for it in equal measure. She wondered if John's decision not to militarise had less to do with his assessment of the Wraith threat and more to do with not wanting to take on the responsibility. That was unfair, Elizabeth told herself firmly. John was sincere in his want to work together and she appreciated it. She had to trust him. She couldn't be paranoid about everything and everyone.

Perhaps she should talk to Kate Heightmeyer, Elizabeth thought with wry amusement. Or maybe she should do the same as John and get back to work. She took another long look at the breath-taking view and went inside.

o-O-o

The temporary science lab had been secured the day before. It was small, no bigger than Sam's lab at the SGC and Rodney had already set up multiple computer stations running a series of diagnostics on the city which made it look even smaller. A long metal table at the far side which had been designated the dumping ground for all the Ancient tech that they were finding didn't help either. But space was the last thing on Rodney's mind as he bustled in at a horrendously early hour eager to analyse the findings of the diagnostics.

Rodney slurped on a mug of hot coffee and continued scanning the results before setting up his own laptop to try and get a handle on the Ancient database. There had to be some kind of organised index. The Czech guy came in and set up on the other side of the table and Rodney was grateful when he didn't speak to him but immediately began working. Rodney had chosen to get an early start so he wouldn't be bothered with the questions and concerns of others.

'Hey.' Sheppard called out softly as he approached. He wore a fresh version of the same outfit that he'd worn the day before: Atlantis issue BDU with a black top, the zip at the neckline lowered a touch. 'You're up early.'

'So are you, Major.' Rodney noted, not stopping his work. He wanted to be annoyed at the interruption but the delight that the memory of the previous night and the Major's request to be on his team evoked overwhelmed his usual response. He cast a glance over Sheppard and frowned at the hint of shadows and bags under the other man's eyes. 'You did sleep?'

'Yeah,' Sheppard rubbed the back of his neck as he came to stop beside him, 'although if we don't secure enough living quarters today I might try sleeping in one of the one puddle jumpers tonight. The floor in the office is too hard.'

'You slept on the floor?' Rodney said. 'I'd say you should come to the infirmary which has actual beds but you probably don't want to do that either.'

'Why not?' Sheppard slouched against the side of the desk.

Rodney shook his left hand. 'Life-sucking alien arm tucked away in the freezer?'

Sheppard winced. 'Yeah, that's kind of creepy.'

'Carson told me about it just before he thought the lights out.' Which had been mean and spiteful just because Rodney had told him to stop talking about his mother. 'Every time I closed my eyes and heard a noise I thought it was that hand opening the freezer, crawling across the floor and…'

'I get the picture!' Sheppard said swiftly.

His tan had paled considerably, Rodney observed. 'So, I may be joining you in the puddle jumper if I don't have a room assigned today.'

Sheppard smirked at him. 'Yeah, well, bring your own sleeping bag.'

Rodney snorted.

'I talked to Elizabeth by the way,' Sheppard said, 'she's cool with you being on the team.'

Cool. Only Sheppard was cool enough to get away with saying that, Rodney thought. Then it hit him. He had permission. He was going to be on Sheppard's team. He stopped working abruptly and looked up at Sheppard fully. 'Really?'

'Really.' Sheppard grinned at him. 'You, me, Ford and Teyla. Well, Teyla once Elizabeth's had a chance to talk with her but I can't see that going badly so…us four.'

'Wow.' Rodney said, speechless for once. Oh God; they were effectively the SG1 of the Pegasus galaxy.

Sheppard seemed to understand. 'I _know_.'

'In the interests of full disclosure, I feel I should tell you that I, um, might not be the easiest person to work with and, uh, can be bad in a crisis?' Rodney hurried out.

Sheppard smiled at him smugly. 'Too late, McKay. You already said yes. You're on the team.'

Rodney felt oddly delighted. And terrified. Mostly terrified. 'Well, don't say I didn't warn you.'

Sheppard pushed away from the desk and headed to the table.

'Don't touch any of it!' Rodney said quickly. 'We don't need your magic gene setting off a bomb.'

'There's a bomb?' Sheppard shifted straight into Concerned Military mode; he looked a minute away from ordering the bomb squad, his hand already rising to his earpiece.

Rodney waved his hands dramatically to recapture his attention. 'No. I mean, we don't know. We're going to have to check them out one by one,' he looked at Sheppard hopefully, 'actually if you have some time…'

'Uh, later?' Sheppard took an uneasy step away from the table. 'I was kind of hoping you had time to help me with the puddle jumpers. If Elizabeth agrees, the Athosians want to go collect some stuff and the one we used yesterday needs to be checked over so…'

There was a large part of Rodney that wanted to go and it warred with a large part of him that wanted to stay to finish analysing everything, and truthfully the latter had priority. Sheppard got the message when Rodney assumed a vaguely apologetic air.

'Oh, don't give me that look.' Rodney snapped. 'I had a cat. I am wise to the pleading eyes of doom.'

'You don't have anyone that can help me out?' Sheppard pressed.

And seriously: pleading eyes of doom. Rodney sighed heavily and looked away. His eyes caught on the huddled form of the Czech guy in the far corner. 'You! Zaniski.'

The Czech guy looked up and pointed a finger at his chest.

'Yes, you!' Rodney motioned for him to walk over.

'My name is not Zaniski.' The scientist pointed out dryly.

'Like I care.' Rodney said brusquely. 'Congratulations; you're now heading the research into the puddle jumpers.'

Sheppard offered his hand to the Czech. 'John Sheppard.' He darted a questioning look at McKay.

'Yes, Major; I know who you are.' The Czech shook his hand with a sigh. 'Radek Zelenka, and to answer poorly hidden look; yes, I know what I am doing. In past I design planes for your government.'

'I knew that!' Rodney claimed immediately. He noted the matching disbelief on both Sheppard's and Zelenka's faces. 'You know what? It doesn't matter if you believe me or not. Go! Go somewhere else and…'

Zelenka let out another sigh of exasperation or disappointment. Rodney couldn't tell. 'I will finish here and meet you in room with…puddle jumpers.'

'Great.' Sheppard said brightly, already turning away to leave. He slapped McKay's arm, jolting him. 'Thanks, McKay.'

'Never say I don't give you anything.' McKay called out as Sheppard headed out of the lab.

A few minutes later, Rodney heard Zelenka follow, grumbling under his breath in Czech. Rodney ignored him in favour of concentrating on his work.

The unrelenting focus on code, interspersed with yelling at his science team as they wandered in and out for assignments and progress reports, drowned out the underlying buzz of fear that had worried its way into his head.

He was in another galaxy. He was in another galaxy with life-sucking aliens who wanted to _eat_ him and how had he ever thought it was a good idea?

Because Atlantis was a dream for a scientist, he reminded himself briskly. The Ancients were the foundation of all the technology that Earth had found to date even the Asgards used principles seeded in Ancient tech. He was going to make ground-breaking, Nobel-prize winning break-throughs…if he didn't get eaten.

He wasn't going to get eaten.

 _Sheppard_ wouldn't let him get eaten; he wouldn't let any of them get eaten. Regardless of what had happened to Sumner, Rodney hadn't been joking with the Major the night before when he'd told Sheppard that his actions in rescuing their people and the Athosians had reassured everyone on that score; had made them all feel a little safer despite the revelation that their new home had life-sucking aliens bringing down the neighbourhood.

Obviously Sheppard was upset that he hadn't been able to save Sumner though which surprised Rodney because he'd gotten the distinct impression that Sumner liked Sheppard as much as he liked Rodney which was to say not at all. Which was fine because Rodney hadn't liked Sumner either and he wasn't a hypocrite who was going to pretend to mourn him although he spared the thought that he wouldn't have wished for the guy to be eaten by life-sucking aliens.

Thank God Sheppard had sat in the chair and thank God that the Pentagon had eventually got over the notion of keeping Sheppard on Earth in case they needed him in the Antarctica chair and had assigned him to the mission, even if it had been right at the last minute and without giving Sheppard the necessary time to prepare.

Rodney had liked Sheppard in the brief time the Major had been allowed to spend with the project in Antarctica. Unlike Carson, Sheppard _liked_ the Ancient tech; would light up like a kid at Christmas when he put his hands on something. And he never seemed to mind Rodney's brusque orders – he'd occasionally question them in that laconic drawl he had – but he never outright complained about it. Rodney had once caught Sheppard looking amused when Rodney had been yelling at someone. It boded well for them working on the same team.

Team.

Oh God.

He froze in the middle of writing another scathing email and stared blankly at the blinking cursor on his screen.

He'd agreed to be on Sheppard's team. Why had he agreed to be on Sheppard's team? Rodney wasn't good at team things. His sister Jeannie would testify to that since he hadn't talked to her since she'd told him she was pregnant (he'd meant to call her before they'd left but there had been so little time). Everyone he knew would testify to that. He was going to be really bad. Awful. He'd panic in the middle of something and let Sheppard down and the rest of the team down and people would get hurt and it would be all his fault and…

Maybe he could change his mind. He could tell Sheppard that he'd changed his mind. Sheppard would understand. Or maybe Sheppard would turn the pleading eyes of doom on him and OK, Rodney had never been able to resist his cat when he'd done it.

A clatter at the Ancient tech table had Rodney whirling around sharply to glare at the Marine dumping a number of items.

'Sorry, they kind of fell and…'

'Be more careful!' Rodney remonstrated. 'One of them could be a bomb!'

'A bomb!' The guy's face assumed the same Concerned Military expression that Sheppard had and Rodney waved him off.

'Forget I said bomb! Just…' he gestured towards the door and the Marine got the message and hustled out.

Rodney sighed heavily and went over to check that nothing had been damaged. A green oval brooch-like object caught his attention. It perched on an Ancient datapad not unlike the life-signs detector Sheppard had found in the jumpers. Someone had obviously initialised the datapad because it immediately lit up as soon as Rodney took hold of it.

And oooh…a personal shield. That was interesting. Very interesting. If he had a shield he'd be safe. No more having to worry about…but it was activated and imprinted on the gene carrier who initialised it. Of course it only worked for a gene carrier. Rodney rolled his eyes and set it down again.

He made his way back to his computer. He just had to focus on his work, Rodney told himself. Just had to forget that there was any danger and…

A cough behind him had him jumping, taking a step back and almost falling over a stool. He scowled at Elizabeth who was trying to hide how much she wanted to laugh at him.

'Sorry,' she said insincerely, 'I just wanted to check on how things are going.'

Rodney pulled himself together and gave her a run-down on the various projects, finishing with the tech table.

'We really have no idea what these are although some have been found with notes but mostly not and they could be anything although why the Ancients would leave dangerous things hanging around I wouldn't know,' he snapped his fingers, 'unless they're booby traps which as I was saying could mean that these are bombs or anything really,' and he noticed Elizabeth had her own version of Concerned Military mode, 'not that I think these are and anyway, we'll go through them one at a time and check them out; Sheppard's promised to come by later.'

Elizabeth hummed. 'I'm not sure you should count on always having the use of Major Sheppard to help. He is the military commander now.'

'Please,' Rodney said, waving away her concern, 'Marines are like puppies; keep them fed, watered and exercised and they're no bother.'

'Not that I agree with this analogy, but dogs are a lot of work.' Elizabeth said with the authority of someone who owned one.

'Dog lover, huh?' Rodney asked idly, his mind already moving onto the latest simulation results on power distribution.

'Yes, actually.' Elizabeth said. 'And to return to the point, you may need to find someone else to help you with the Ancient tech.'

'Nobody's as good as him.' Rodney stated. 'And besides he likes helping with it.' He was certain that Sheppard would keep his word and turn up to help sooner or later.

Elizabeth's eyes narrowed on him. 'He's sometimes going to be too busy, Rodney, and you need to respect that.'

He snorted. 'His gene is the reason why he's on the expedition, or have you forgotten that, Elizabeth?' When they were alone he didn't see the point of conforming to the strict formality of calling her Doctor Weir especially when she called him by his given name.

'And circumstances have changed.' Elizabeth straightened, folding her arms over her chest. 'I wanted to talk to you about your decision to join the Major's team.'

Rodney glanced up at that. He took in her expression and glared at her. 'You think I shouldn't be on the team!' He felt unaccountably hurt.

'That's not true, Rodney,' Elizabeth said strongly, 'but I'm concerned that you may not have thought through all the implications of your decision because you feel flattered that the Major asked you.'

He was flattered that Sheppard had asked him; stunned too that he was the first person Sheppard had asked. It probably didn't help that he didn't really understand why Sheppard had asked him because he didn't think Sheppard actually believed Rodney when he said he was brilliant. But maybe Sheppard's own articulated reason, that he and Rodney had worked well together the day before, was actually true. Whatever the reason, he hadn't accepted Sheppard's request because he'd been flattered; he just wasn't sure why he'd accepted Sheppard's offer.

'I admit it, I'm flattered,' Rodney said, realising Elizabeth was waiting for a response, 'but that doesn't mean that I haven't thought about it fully.'

'Have you though?' Elizabeth asked. She tilted her head to one side. 'You'll be going on missions; taking orders from the Major in the field. You might have to face the Wraith. You'll have reduced time in the city to work on your research or to deal with any issues.' She held up a hand. 'You've never shown an interest in being on a gate team before, Rodney.'

'As you said; circumstances change.' Rodney said tersely. 'If Sam was here, I'm sure she'd be the one volunteering, and yes, I get that she'd be more qualified after all of her years of experience, but she's not here and I am and there's no-one else on the science team who has more experience with the Stargate than me.'

'Peter Grodin is ex-British military, Rodney, and he's a good scientist…'

'But not as good as me and he's been working on the Stargate tech for what? Less than a year?' Rodney shot back as he tried to block her out by focusing on the computer.

'Being good isn't the only skill that's required here.' Elizabeth paused before she sighed. 'You've never embraced team-work or shown a propensity for enjoying risky activities, Rodney. You have to see my confusion as to why you want to do this.'

Rodney's hands stilling on the keyboard again as he looked over at her. 'I know you're right,' he began.

'OK, so I'll tell the Major you've changed your mind and…'

'I hadn't finished, Elizabeth,' he said sharply.

She nodded slowly for him to continue.

'Everything you've said has some truth in it,' Rodney allowed, 'and I'm not even sure I want to do this but,' he swallowed hard but held her gaze, 'I think it's something I have to do. Or at least,' his chin went up a notch, 'it's something I have to try.'

Elizabeth frowned at him but she gave another brisk nod. 'OK then.' She smiled to ease the tension between them. 'If you have no objections, I was thinking of asking Peter to assume a role as my executive officer in addition to his science duties.'

'He's a good choice.' Rodney said, grateful for the change of subject.

Elizabeth made a sweeping gesture around the room. 'I'll let you get back to it.'

Rodney waited until she'd gone before he slumped against the desk and pinched the bridge of his nose. Why, why, why hadn't he just taken the out she'd offered him? He didn't need to be on Sheppard's team; he didn't want to be running around planets and putting himself in danger and…

His eyes fell on the tech table again. He pressed his earpiece. 'Carson, where are you on the gene therapy?'

'Hello to you too, Rodney.' Carson said back in his ear.

'Yes, yes, hello; now will you answer the question?'

'I am in the middle of setting up the infirmary, Rodney, something I'm sure you'll appreciate.' Carson said impatiently.

'Gene therapy, Carson.' Rodney reiterated brusquely. 'You've got a viable formula now, haven't you? Since you used the Major's genome as a foundation?'

'Yes as soon as we're done setting up the infirmary, I'll get to finalising it for use.' Carson said with a huff of annoyance. 'Now, if that's everything…'

'Fine.' Rodney closed the communication channel and headed back to the table. He picked up the green oval – the personal shield. Gene therapy. If he had the gene therapy he could initialise the shield himself; he'd be invulnerable. He wouldn't panic in the field, wouldn't let his brand new team-mates down…he slipped the shield into his pocket.

fin.


End file.
